Rinaldo is travelling on the train for Rome. He left everything; he is fleeing to a new life. She is waiting for him in Turin and from there they will go to France where she has an uncle ready to help them. Out of caution they will marry in France, not in Italy. The Mafia absolutely didn't want to let him go. They had even menaced him, but he shrewdly fooled them, and succeeded in making them lose his trail. He has five millions lira hidden inside the heels of his tennis shoes. She too has some money. They will lead a quiet life. She knows French and he will quickly learn it. Her family didn't oppose their plans, even though they knew of his past life - when he swore he would break with his former ways, they trusted him. They were honest people.
He smiles, becoming aware that he is already thinking of the Mafia as his past. He feels merry, free. For her, with her. He really loves her very much. She is an exceptional girl. Before, when he asked her to make love, she always said no, but with sweet determination. But when he told her that he was ready to leave the Mafia for her, it was she who asked him to make love. She still was a virgin and it had been wonderful. He never enjoyed so much with any other girl. Just thinking of that time makes him aroused. To divert his thoughts from his arousal, he stands up, leaves a newspaper on his seat, and goes out into the deserted coach corridor.
Two men are coming up the corridor, then another comes from the opposite direction. Rinaldo squeezes himself against the window, to let them pass. And suddenly feels something hard pushing against his side - he is squeezed amongst the three men. One of them says: "Macaluso Rinaldo, not a word or you are dead."
Rinaldo feels he is turning pale - how could they find him? They didn't know which train he would have taken, for where, at what time. He soon learns the answer. One of the men has a cellular telephone. Using it, he dials a number and says: "We caught him; stop the searches on all the other trains. We will take care of him." They make him take his luggage then bring him to the platform.
"Where are you taking me? What will you do to me?"
"Shut up!" one of the men replies sharply.
>From the pocket of one of the men, the revolver is still aimed at him. Also the other two are surely keeping him under their aim. The train is slowing down as it nears the main station at Naples. Somebody is coming. One of the three men pushes something against his face; he feels a very strong, sharp smell, then darkness as suddenly he feels faint. Two strong arms hold him up. He hears confused voices.
A woman asks: "Is he indisposed?"
"Yes, but nothing really serious, at times he has seizures." one of the three men says.
"Oh, poor thing..."
"We are taking him to the hospital in a taxi." another of the men says.
"Yes, it will be better. Happily he is not alone since he is with you..." the woman adds. Rinaldo wants to yell for help, but he loses consciousness.
When he wakes up he doesn't know how much time elapsed. A bare lamp hangs from the ceiling. He is tied on a bed, and adhesive tape fixes his wrists to the bed head and his ankles to the bed bottom. He raises his head and becomes aware he is wearing just his singlet and briefs. A man is sitting on a chair near the bed and has a revolver in his lap.
"What do you want to do me?" Rinaldo asks, without a single quake.
"I? Nothing at all. A man sent by Don Calogero will come and take care of you. Did you want to disappear? He will help you, don't worry. It is not polite to leave so, without bidding farewell. Didn't you know?"
Rinaldo keeps silent. All right, they will kill him. He is just sorry for his Rosaria. But at least, he consoles himself, she will not be a widow. 'Who knows what will she think, not seeing me arrive? That I took her for a ride? That I lacked courage at the last moment? No... she knows me, trusts me. Even if there is nothing in the newspapers she will wonder. I didn't think I had to end my life just at twenty. At my age one believes himself to be immortal...' No, Rinaldo is not scared. His years in the Mafia had at least prepared him to this, to face death without shitting on his pants.
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Martino owns a hotel in the historic centre of Caserta. He went to visit it, because he intends to improve its rating from three to five stars. The hotel director is one of his men; he perfectly knows what his big boss likes, and being a worldly man, he is not at all surprised at that.
But when Martino, sitting in his office, says: "Listen, I'm starting to feel somewhat bored...can't you please find me a boy for one night?"
the director looks at him with a serious expression and says: "In this hotel... we don't have this kind of services, you know that, doctor Del Noce..."
"Well, it's a pity... anyway... see to getting me one. I'm ready to pay him well, but I want him young, handsome, and available to some little games I love..."
The director pretends to be ill at ease, but at the end says in a low voice: "I possibly know a person who... but he is in Naples and..."
"Put him in contact with me. He can possibly be useful also in future." Martino says, determined.
"Just by chance I have here his telephone number and if you think..."
"Good, tell him to call me. Pass the call to my suite, I will be there to wait for him."
"I hope I can contact him..."
Martino goes back to his suite, satisfied. So, his director knows also a pimp. If the man serves him finely, he will made him his agent to find him an escort boy for his travels. As in Italy there is not an escort service, this can be a very good option. A boys' provider, not bad at all. He never liked to go around to search one personally, then to have to contract and possibly at the end to be disappointed. Besides the difficulties that come out and the problems to persuade the boys when he explains he wants to do his little S and M games. And yet, he doesn't flog them, he doesn't put on their nipples alligator clips, nothing like that.
The telephone rings. "Hallo? Mister director told me that you wanted to contact me about a boy..."
"Ah, yes, good. What is your name?"
"Eh? Ah... let's say Delio..."
"Fine, Delio. Listen, I want a boy, no more than twenty years old, really beautiful, a bottom, really skilled, available to give head and to do some little S and M games."
"Ah, S and M? It will not be so easy..."
"I'm ready to pay very well, if I'm satisfied."
"S and M... how? Whips, chains, needles, screw clamps?"
"No, no, for Heaven's sake! I just will act the role of the master, and he that of the rebel slave. As a punishment I will chuck it in his mouth and ass. He has to beg me to stop, but let me do. It will be all here. No real violence, just verbal. But he has to be a good actor, convincing."
"Well then, that could be possible."
"If I'm satisfied with your service, I will continue to call you from time to time. And 100 to you each time, 500 for the boy. Is that OK?"
"Yes, sure. When do you want him?"
"Five minutes ago..." Martino, merrily and already aroused, answers.
The other giggles: "I understand. The time to search the right boy, make him take the train and he will be there, at your place. There in the hotel, right?"
"Yes, here in my hotel, where I have my suite."
"I will call you back to tell you what time he arrives, and to agree how to meet."
"I will send you the sum."
"For my 100 you can have our friend the director make a bank transfer to me. But take your time, and just if you are satisfied with the boy. The boy, instead, you will pay him directly, afterwards."
"Fine. I wait for your call. But as soon as possible, OK?"
"I won't fail. It has been a pleasure to talk to you, Doctor. I hope you will be happy with my service, and that you will call me again. The director can give you my telephone number. Hear you soon."
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Dionigi is at home, in his bedroom, darkened not to make enter the strong afternoon light. He is on top of his wife, to whom he rose up the skirt and lowered the panties. He has his trousers and boxers at his knees, and is mounting her with real pleasure, while she claws with her varnished nails his buttocks. He doesn't understand why, even if they are married for eight years, she wants to do it always and only in the dark. But at least, she never says him no. He hears her enjoy and this excites him, makes him feel even more a male. He knows that the women not enjoying it because their men are not able to arouse them, are not few. He is proud to be different.
He hears his three children playing on the street, and this also arouses him. They are three boys, when they will grow older, will they do like he did when a kid, he was going with his brother to spy their father mounting their mother, and they jacked off each other? Just, in his case, his poor sons will be able at most to hear the noises and to guess, as his wife always wants to do it in the dark.
The doorbell rings.
"Who can it be?" his wife asks with a chocked voice.
"Be who could be... he will wait..." Dionigi panting answers, continuing to finger her thriving breasts under her blouse, and to hammer between her legs with vigour. Also the idea of an unaware stranger waiting behind their house door, excites him.
"And if by chance it was something important?" the woman insists, between a pleasure moan and another.
"He will wait all the same..." Dionigi stubborn pants, without slowing down his rhythm.
"You are a real male!" the woman pleased says.
Then she feels his orgasm approaching and, like usual, she pushes her left hand's middle finger all inside her husband's back hole. Her friend wives are dying to know why the nail of that finger is always cut and smooth... Like at a signal, Dionigi start s to fill her with broadsides of jism, while the doorbell rings again insistently. The two go limp, trembling and satisfied.
"Shall I go to see, Dionigi?" she asks withdrawing her finger from the warm hole.
"No, my love, remain here to draw breath. I'll go to see who is that ball breaker." Dionigi gallant says leaving the bed and tiding his trousers while he goes to open the entrance door. On the room door he avails himself of the light gleam to throw a glance to her, but her skirt is already down and she throws him a kiss with her hand. 'Faster than lightning, he thinks, I never get to see her naked!'
He opens the door. A man dressed in dark scrutinizes him with a severe air: "I was about to leave..."
"I was resting... What do you want?"
"Let me in, Don Calogero sends me..."
Dionigi is startled - he made the boss' man wait; that one he was longing for. He asks him in.
"You have to leave at once for Caserta. Here are the train timetables. In Caserta you have to go to this hotel, ask for room 61, already booked in your name. Tomorrow morning around ten 'o clock our man will come and tell you what we expect from you. Don 't forget, discretion. No useless questions, obey without uttering a word. We don't give appeal tests."
"Yes, I understand..."
"When things are over, immediately take your train back to Messina and come to this address. If all works smoothly, you will be one of ours."
"May I bring a weapon?"
"Our man will give you all you need. Don't bring anything. Ah, and in this envelope you will find the money you will need. Good bye."
The man leaves. In the envelope there is a million in 100 thousand lira notes. What for? He will probably understand when he arrives there. The man will look for him in the room 61 and will explain him everything. His wife peeps in the living room from the bedroom door.
"Are you alone?" she asks.
"Did you hear?"
"Of course. I'll prepare your luggage."
"I won't need it."
"At least a change, something to eat, just an overnight case.." she says, solicitously.
Dionigi knows it is useless to insist; he has to let her do as she says. He looks at the timetable, then at his watch: "I have just thirty minutes." he says.
"In ten minutes all will be ready. You'll get in time, don't worry."
"Yes." he says and goes to change his clothes.
At the door his wife bids him farewell with a kiss. "Make yourself honorably; make them see who you are!" she proudly says. Smiling, he nods yes, and leaves.
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Fabrizio is watching his last laserdisc with Madonna. Less good than he thought. The telephone lamp flashes. He lowers the volume and inserts the live-voice.
"Hallo, Fabrizio on line..."
"Fabrizio, I'm Delio. Are you free for a couple of days?"
"Possibly. Free, for what?"
"For a round 500."
"Yes?" Fabrizio, interested, encourages him.
"You have to go at once to Caserta. There is a train in two hours..."
"What's it about?"
"A guy full of money. He wants some light S and M - no whips, no beating, just scene. Master and slave to punish; that is a blow job and a screw in the ass."
"Are you sure it will be just a scene? I never liked S and M, you know that. You're really sure?"
"A hundred per cent, guaranteed. Are you going?"
"Who is he?"
"Rich, I tell you..."
"Yes, but how do I recognize him? Where will he be?"
"Ah, in the hotel. He will have the 'Espresso' magazine in his hands and a packet of Lucky Strike."
"Yes, but where? What hotel?" Fabrizio impatient asks, thinking that 500 more the expenses fees will not be bad.
"Ah yes, the Hotel Majestic, in the entrance hall, around ten 'o clock. He wants a handsome boy, young and, above all, acting well his part."
"Well, all right, I'm the right man, then. I'll prepare myself and go."
"Yes, and let me know how it went, when you are back."
Fabrizio starts to undress. He will take a good shower, shave perfectly, a hint of perfume, simple but elegant clothes. He slips inside the shower and washes thoroughly. Will the client be young or old? Handsome or ugly? It doesn't really matter. Delio never disappointed him; each time he proposed him a business deal it was profitable. And he never disappointed his clients, by the way.
Arriving at the station before time, he buys a first class return ticket - anyway he will be reimbursed. He boards and waits for the train to start. Then he thinks: "Hell, I didn't ask Delio who has to do the master's part and who the slave's! Well, I'll understand it when I meet that guy, and anyway it doesn't make so much difference". He looks out of the window at the panorama rushing past. Really it is dark, he just sees lights, at times near, at time far away, moving fast in the opposite direction... 500 net, for one day or little more... not bad, not bad at all... Yes, business is proceeding well. His bank account, in spite of his comfortable life, is rapidly increasing...